


Some Songs Remain the Same

by lyrithim



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 05:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2496158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrithim/pseuds/lyrithim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are still circling, still dancing to the same old, same old.</p>
<p>[10.03 Coda. Poem.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Songs Remain the Same

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying a new thing: to not apologize for the stuff I write. So here this is.

The man in rags stands by you  
a distance away  
his eyes, though, still blue  
still true with uncertainty, still honest with hesitance  
a comforting discomfort  
as they lift to meet yours  
and you drink in the sight,  
but you take only so  
no more than your right as a friend, for more would be criminal

You look at him, and his ragged cloak  
the deeper lines running down his face  
And he wasn’t quite angelic any more  
hasn’t been for some time

You long to reach out, but

An empty space lies by your bed  
with pictures scattered in your head  
where vestiges of war still rages,  
in hurricanes and storms of your veins

Creatures of the earth  
have little more permanence  
than the sand castles sculpted on the beach  
by a child’s rough hands  
So many incarnations you and he have gone through in this lifetime  
that by now you must have been unrecognizable

But your eyes, wayward things,  
linger on the curve of his jaw  
the shape of his lips as he chewed on each word  
and through this weave of actions  
you think you can see him, the immaterial him,  
underneath

You long to touch, but

A length, ten feet, stretches eternal;  
you talk, you hold your breath, you pause.  
You lift your eyes to meet his; he smiles;  
you find there is no need, no cause  
to hasten the tempo.

Some songs never change  
they only play in refrains  
and the same old same old pulses with your veins  
You know these words, and you dance to them  
a smile (not too long), a gaze (not too longing),  
and you fall into the same old same old,  
and though there is a spark—

The conversation ends.  
The door closes, and with it  
hushes the whispers of  
unspoken words.


End file.
